Hisoka's Apartment, Musutafu, 11:14 PM.

Sunday, 2nd, 2149.

With the exception of the messaging app, the online social presence of Kaito Habiki was almost entirely non-existent. There was no active profile belonging to the man on any of the large social media platforms, and that was unusual considering how tied into social convention it had become.

A search through deleted and archived pages revealed that he'd had some profiles a decade and a half ago, but they'd clearly vanished sometime after he'd turned fifteen. It was easy enough to use those profiles to find several still active accounts for people who were directly involved with him.

One, in particular, was a woman that could only be his mother, Kimiko Habiki. The woman was fifty-six years old, no longer married—if she ever had been—and currently living in what looked like a mansion in the city of Fukuoka. It was clear that Kaito had inherited his blue skin from her, but the serrated fins that the man possessed were entirely missing from her body.

The woman appeared to have no direct career described on her socials, but from the thousands of photos attached to each website and her public post history, it was clear that she spent her ample time buying, selling and remodelling houses. Kimiko dressed well, drove an expensive car, and seemed to frequent high-end restaurants and other venues—if I was being honest, her lifestyle reminded me entirely of aunt Hayami.

Kimiko's social presence was far more complete and dated all the way back to her teenage days—days in which she lived a completely different life than the one she currently had. Her early life appeared to be contained almost entirely in Osaka, and from the year's worth of photos from that time period, within the slums.

Kaito Habiki existed there, in photos, while Kimiko was still in her late teens, but there was no mention of his name in any of the posts—'my baby,' 'my darling,' 'my son,' and other indirect references that never seemed to include his name. His early childhood was documented in snapshots, smiling, and in small, cramped and messy rooms.

The photos of him grew far more sporadic after that, and then after his fifteenth birthday, they simply stopped appearing completely. Kimiko's life in the slums of Osaka continued unabated, even without the presence of her son, until in June 2129, her photos started to show a distinct uptick in her financial situation—better clothes, larger rooms, celebrations over buying a car for the first time, pictures taken inside of restaurants.

There was nothing in her post history to suggest where the sudden change of circumstance was attributed, but it soon became clear that whatever the source of money was, it wasn't slowing down. In the intervening decade, she moved at least six times, and each event was followed by pictures showcasing a steady increase in wealth. The houses became more spacious, the clothes more beautiful, the cars newer and more expensive, and through it all, Kaito Habiki became a ghost that never appeared again.

I turned my attention to discovering Kimiko's address—a task that was relatively simple given how many photos she'd taken of her current home and the surrounding area. Simply using the map application on my computer allowed me to pinpoint the neighbourhood by matching the buildings from above and then working out the angle through multiple photos. Once I'd found the exact house on the map application, I memorised the address and then sat back for a moment, considering what I'd learned and what I would need to do.

Kimiko's life had taken a dramatic turn around after Kaito's social presence had vanished. That wasn't enough to draw any real conclusions, but it was enough for me to be suspicious of where exactly the money had come from.

Kimiko hadn't posted anything about gaining a sudden well-paying job, and it was clear that she hadn't the education nor the experience, skills or connections to attain something that lucrative. Kimiko's life had transitioned from the struggle of a single mother trying to make ends meet in the slums of Osaka to somehow buying her first home and a new car every single year for the next decade—practically overnight.

The possibility that she had sold her son for some kind of payout existed, but the idea had a significant hole in it. The continuous income that Kimiko now seemed to possess didn't fit; selling her son to someone would have resulted in a single payment, not multiple increasing payments that lasted for more than a decade. I considered the idea that she had simply won the lottery and her son had vanished in an entirely unrelated event—but considering Kaito was still alive and was involved in an abduction years later, it seemed unlikely.

I was left with a hundred questions and only one real way to find answers; I was going to have to go to Fukuoka and see what I could find. It was incredibly unfortunate that I hadn't discovered this until days after Sajin had set off to the exact city I now needed a reason to visit. While he was still there for several days, there wasn't really a valid reason for me to want to visit him while he was working and on such short notice—but there was another way for me to travel to Fukuoka.

We'd spent the last several weeks going over the Sports Festival, along with everything to expect before, during and after it took place. As soon as the Sports Festival was over, we would be receiving Internship requests from Hero Agencies—internships that would last up to a week and would require short-term living arrangements in the city the Agency was located.

The obvious solution here was to choose one that resided in Fukuoka, something that would give me up to a week in which I could physically investigate Kimiko Habiki and her residence. More than enough time to engineer a situation in which she would be forced to reveal her son's current whereabouts.

#

Hayami's Home, Musutafu, 6:06 PM.

Thursday, 6th, 2149.

"Oh yes, I remember it very well," Hayami said, covering her mouth to hide her smile. "Hisoka, he lost during the first round to some girl from Seiai Academy; she walked straight up and kissed him on the mouth—he collapsed right there and then."

"Bunch of cheaters," Sajin said, slumping back into his chair. "One minute, she's sticking her tongue in my mouth; the next, I'm waking up in the waiting room, eliminated."

"Katashi and I met with him after it was over," Hayami said, laughing. "We had the pleasure of watching Sajin ask the girl for her number before experiencing his second defeat for the day—from the very same girl."

"You're finding way too much amusement in my suffering," Sajin said, waving her off. "You better be careful about stuff like that, Hisoka. You might know what Quirk's your own classmates have, but there's always someone out there with a way to take you down if you're not expecting it."

"I'll keep that in mind," I agreed.

"The schedule they posted is so densely packed. Three-year levels from multiple schools, all participating on a single day," Hayami said, furrowing her brow. "They used to have each level compete on consecutive days, but now they've squished it all into a single day, in a single arena—how do they fit all of those events in?"

"Shota Aizawa spoke about that on the final day of our classes," I spoke, remembering Momo's offhand comment that had kicked off the discussion. "Each year level participates in the same three events, while the other years are isolated in the waiting rooms to avoid giving us time to prepare. The third year will complete the first event, then the second year will complete it, and then my own year will go last. After all three years have completed an event, they'll move onto the next one in turn."

"When did they start doing it like that?" Sajin wondered, shaking his head. "Better yet, how do they handle the tournament portion? The same way?"

"The tournament portion isn't always present, although it's the most popular event for viewers, so it's highly likely to be included this year again," I said, "It works the same way; my year will be confined to our waiting rooms while the other schools complete the tournament portion based on year level."

"Convenience?" Sajin guessed. "I suppose it also has the effect of not splitting the viewership up either—meaning more ad revenue for all the streaming services covering the events."

"Yes, well," Hayami said, waving her hand. "I suppose money does act as a motivating force."

"For good and ill," Sajin agreed, "Hisoka, it looks like you're going to be spending most of the day locked up in a waiting room, huh? Makes sense if they don't want the second and first years solving all the events after watching the third years go first."

"I will be with my classmates; I'm sure I'll have something to keep me occupied," I said, nodding. "Tangentially related to our current topic, I started looking into Hero Agencies again. Your recent trip to Fukuoka made for a good starting point, and I believe I've finally found one I would like to apply for."

Sajin lifted his head from reading the schedule over Hayami's shoulder.

"There's certainly a few of them there," Sajin said, pulling at the end of his moustache. "But I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume you're talking about Hawks Agency?"

"As expected of a Pro-hero, I cannot slip anything by you, Uncle Sajin," I said, smiling. "That was the one I was thinking of."

Sajin laughed at the comment.

"I actually worked a case with them while I was there," Sajin said, amused. "Hawks' only got two sidekicks working for him at the moment, which isn't a lot considering the average amount is usually in the dozens."

"I believe I saw the names of the sidekicks listed on his website," I said, "Red Bird and Velcrow."

"That's the two of them, alright; Red Bird is a pretty funny guy, I'll tell you that," Sajin said with a bark of a laugh. "Velcrow is more of a quiet type, good at computer stuff, logistics and tracking people down—he was handling the call-ins, reports and police intersection."

"What about Hawks?" I asked.

I'd already done research on the three of them, but Sajin would have a better insight given he'd actually met them in person.

"He's laidback and seems pretty unphased by most things, but he's not exactly the patience sort either," Sajin said, giving a final tug to his moustache. "He does flybys through the city every couple of hours, doesn't really touch down or interact with anyone, and leaves the cleanup to his sidekicks—as far as being a hero goes, he's kind of a force of nature."

"They sound interesting," I admitted. "Did you spend a lot of time working with them?"

"Couple of days, all in all," Sajin said, shaking his head. "Velcrow found the guy I was looking for in about two hours, and then Hawks picked him up before I'd even gotten a chance to step outside the building."

"What did you spend the rest of the time doing?" Hayami said, blinking. "You were there for almost a week."

"I went on a couple of patrols with the three of them, but most of my time was spent working with the police force," Sajin admitted before leaning back. "Hawks is still pretty young, but he's got a head on his shoulders. As far as mentoring goes, though? I'm not sure I have enough of a basis to tell you whether he'd be any good for it."

"I understand," I said, humming. "Uncle Sajin, do you think it would be a good fit? Or should I look for something else?"

It was a risk to ask a question like that, but I didn't want to come off as desperate to apply for this specific Agency, and showcasing that I wasn't too attached to the idea would help alleviate some of that.

"Velcrow might be a good mentor for that investigative focus you were originally after," Sajin said, tapping a finger against his chin. "I've got his number, so I'll give them a call later and see if they're going to be looking for anything in particular."

"Thank you," I said, smiling.

'No worries—but you'll have to put on a good showing tomorrow if you want them to consider you over the others," Sajin said, "I worked with them for a day or two, so I don't exactly have any real pull there, you know?"

"I understand completely," I said, nodding. "I'll do my best to stand out."

"Hisoka, I know you're very talented, but there's going to be hundreds of competitors," Hayami said, a bit concerned. "I just—I guess I don't want you to feel bad if things don't go as well as you're hoping."

"I don't think we have to worry about that, Hayami," Sajin said, shaking his head. "I still remember him smacking that Bamboo guy down before he'd even left middle school—Hisoka, how well do you think you're going to place?"

I considered the question for a moment.

"I think I have a good chance of making it to the final event," I said before pausing. "Provided none of the girls from Seiai Academy manage to get within kissing distance."

Hayami started laughing, even as Sajin began to choke on his water.

#

U.A High School, Musutafu, 5:30 AM.

Friday, 7th, 2149.

The front gates were almost impassible due to the number of reporters who were present. The early hour didn't seem to bother them at all; in fact, they seemed far more alert than even the students who were arriving in droves. I noticed the same reporter from the last time, a microphone pressed against her lips as she narrated the student's attempts to slip through the gate unaccosted. She spotted me a few moments later, and I came to a stop as she moved toward me.

"The boy from last time—uh—" Yui said, pressing the microphone close to his face. "How does it feel to be preparing for the U.A Sports Festival? Are you nervous about being in front of so many people? How do you think you'll do?"

I listened as she rattled off a handful of questions in her excitement.

"Good morning, Yui; my name is Hisoka Higawara," I said, "We have been preparing for the festival for weeks now, and the teachers have encouraged us to work hard, even throughout Golden Week."

The woman winced as I used her name.

"I'm looking forward to showcasing everything that I've learned at U.A to both the audience and the many hero agencies that are watching," I said, smiling. "I'm going to do my best, and I believe that will carry me through everything they have prepared for us."

"You've got your sights set high, that's for sure," Yui said, "U.A tends to dominate the festival—what do you think is the reason?"

"I believe the reason is the unmatched quality of the instructors available to us," I said, nodding. "All Might, Eraserhead, and Midnight are just some of the dozens of Professional Heroes who we interact with every single day, and the collective experience they have at their disposal is unmatched."

Yui, out of sight of the camera, rolled her eyes.

"Is that right?" Yui said, clearing her throat. "What do you think about their response to the USJ incident?"

"My class was the one involved in that incident, so I have the unique perspective of seeing the events and the aftermath first-hand," I said, lowering my eyes for a moment. "I believe the unprecedented villain attack has only served to increase the focus U.A has on maintaining our security and making sure the next generation of heroes is prepared to safeguard Japan from future threats."

Yui waved at the cameraman, and he let the device drop forward as he straightened up.

"They spend way too much time teaching you kids how to talk like politicians," Yui said with an exasperated laugh. "I was hoping for something juicy, you know?"

"I'll make sure to come up with something better for the next time we speak," I said.

"Yeah?" Yui said, fishing a card out of her front pocket. "Here—in case you do find something good."

I took the business card and slipped it into my pocket before ducking my head again.

"Thank you," I said, "Please excuse me—I believe I'm now running a bit late."

"Good luck, kid," Yui said.

I slipped past the rest of the reporters and through the gates relatively unaccosted. I could already see dozens of buses lined up in front of the main building, students from all years milling around, interposed by a few teachers who towered over the majority of them. All of the students were already wearing their U.A tracksuits, matching the one I had on.

The ruling against wearing costumes was one born of advertising and to allow the viewers to identify which school each of the students were from on sight and in the footage. It didn't preclude specialised equipment entirely, but there was a process in which you had to register it weeks in advance. The support students were generally the ones who took advantage of that to showcase the equipment they had built.

I stepped past the legs of a tall boy who had the top half of his body sticking through the side of the bus labelled '3-B' and spotted Mezo standing beside another. He towered over everyone, including the bus driver, who had his cap off, and was waving it around in an attempt to fan his own face. The man said something I was too far away to hear and then turned and stepped up into the bus. The class started to funnel in after him, and Tenya remained by the door, adjusting his glasses with his finger.

"Not trying to organise everyone today, Ida?" Mina said, chopping her arm down in a stiff movement. "All students, single file, or face immediate punishment."

Ochaco burst out laughing at the robotic tone of voice, and Tenya lifted his head until he was looking down his nose at them.

"I don't know what you're implying," Tenya said, clearing his throat. "But you're holding up the line, Ashido."

"Move it," Katsuki grunted.

"I'm going, I'm going," Mina groaned, stepping up into the bus. "Hey, this one has that goofy seating again."

"It's literally the same bus, Ashido," Kyoka said, amused. "Didn't you see our class ID painted on the side?"

I nodded at Tenya and stepped up onto the bus, scanning the interior for a free seat. Tsuyu patted the seat beside her, and I turned towards it before sitting down. Mina grinned at us from the bench directly across from us—I started wondering if I was going to get trapped again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't go on the trip after all," Tsuyu said, wringing her hands. "I felt really bad that we cancelled it."

"Nah," Mina said, "We can always go another time, you know?"

"Exactly," Eijiro said, dropping down opposite them. "I'm not worried at all, seriously."

"Neither am I," Momo said, taking the seat beside Tsuyu. "My father said the offer to use his holiday home is an open invitation."

"The general consensus seems to be that it's completely fine," I said, nodding. "I don't think anyone is upset with you, Tsuyu."

"Besides, you already told us via text, call and video chat," Mina said, ticking it off on her fingers. "Have I missed any?"

"I suppose she might have sent us a letter in the mail," Momo said, tapping a finger to her chin. "Should I check my mailbox?"

"I didn't send any mail, Momo," Tsuyu said, croaking. "I—guess I just wanted to say it in person."

"A true completionist," Eijiro said, folding his hands behind his head. "Damn—I'm so restless right now. I can't wait for this thing to start."

Tenya, the last student in the class, stepped up onto the bus and took his own seat. The doors shut behind him, and the first of the busses started moving, turning into a long column of black as more followed along behind.

"What events do you think they actually picked?" Mina said, rocking forward on the bench. "There's got to be a tournament for the end one, right?"

"The last time they did a different event for the finals was four years ago," Momo said, speaking up. "I think it's safe to say they've locked it down as a permanent fixture of the Festival, considering just how much the ratings change with its absence."

"I'm totally down for that," Eijiro said, clenching his fist. "Maybe they'll do that team relay for the first event? I feel like we've all gotten pretty good at running given how often Aizawa sends us out onto the track."

"That's more of a reflection on our behaviour as a class than anything else," Tsuyu pointed out. "A relay would work well for our class overall; we have quite a few people who would excel there."

"Not exactly exciting, though, is it?" Mina wondered. "What about that siege battle they did that one time, where you had to defend your castle from the opposing team, and there were like fifty people on each side—that would be awesome."

"That would have been interesting," Momo admitted, "I could have made a cannon up on the walls—"

#

Waiting Room 1, Sports Festival Stadium, 6:15 AM.

Friday, 7th, 2149.

"I can't believe we aren't even allowed to keep our phones," Kyoka sighed, "This is torture."

"It's a matter of preventing us from seeing what the events are before our turn," Fumikage said, hands folded in front of his face. "However, there are likely many students who have quirks that could get them that information from within their waiting room—we should go into this with the assumption that they have an advantage."

Which was something I'd already done the moment we had arrived, before erasing all of the sand in case someone present was capable of detecting it. Unfortunately, the middle of the arena was entirely empty right now, which gave zero indication about what might be happening inside. The outside, however, was an entirely different story.

"Besides, we're being watched," Yuga said, gesturing to the camera in the corner of the room. "We should work to entertain our audience, not ourselves."

There were pathways circling the entirety of it, fenced in by high concrete walls. There were three open areas between the pathways, each one with a different obstacle for them to overcome. Dozens of massive robots and hundreds of smaller ones filled the first area. A massive pit with a series of pillar striking up out of it acted as the second obstacle, the goal to cross the thin cables that connected it all. The final one was a minefield, according to the signs, although there was no way to tell where the mines were.

Those with quirks that allowed flight, mobility, long-distance gliding, and teleportation would have zero difficulties with any of them. But an obstacle course couldn't account for every Quirk in attendance, not when there were hundreds of students present at each year level. The main goal of this portion was clearly to hinder the average student long enough that the stand-out ones took the lead.

The previous Festivals that had this event had worked through an elimination system, in which there was a cutoff point dependent on the second and third event. There had been two of them used in the ones I'd looked over in my research—either the first fifty participants or the first forty-two would proceed, while everyone else would be eliminated.

Shoto, Ochaco, Fumikage, Mezo, Katsuki, Hanta, Setsuna, and Reiko each had a quirk that would allow them to no-sell both the minefield and the pillar-pit and provided the mobility to avoid the robots. If we were required to fight the robots, however, that would change the situation entirely. The smaller ones wouldn't pose much of a threat to anyone in their class, but if a requirement was to destroy one of the large ones to proceed, then there were very, very few who could muster that kind of damage output.

The robots hadn't been part of the previous Sports Festivals either, they were a new addition. The previous courses simply had another obstacle to bypass, and as far as I could remember, none of them had required anything other than getting through to the other side.

"Midoriya," Shoto said, rising from his chair.

Izuku stopped halfway across the room and turned back to face the other boy, looking a bit surprised at being so suddenly approached by the otherwise quiet boy.

"Hey, Todoroki," Izuku said, swallowing. "Did you need something?"

"From an objective standpoint, I think it's fairly clear that I'm stronger than you," Shoto said, eyes narrowed. "However, you've got All Might in your corner, helping you out."

Most of the class was watching the exchange now, and Izuku sagged at the confrontation. I glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, frowning—the fact that he'd be so willing to confront him while they were being streamed internationally made me wonder at his motivation.

"I'm not here to pry about what's going on with you two," Shoto said, frowning now. "But know that I will beat you."

"Whoa, what's with the declaration of war?" Denki said from his seat. "Usually, you're the sensible one, right?"

Eijiro rose to his feet, stepping out from the table and clapping a hand on Shoto's shoulder from behind.

"Hey, what's the big deal, man?" Eijiro asked, "Why are you picking a fight all of a sudden—and with Midoriya of all people?"

"We're not here to be each other's friends," Shoto said, turning away from them both. "Don't forget, this isn't a team effort—it's a competition."

Shoto stepped away from them, moving back towards the door as the sounds of voices rang out from the hall.

"Wait a second, Todoroki," Izuku said, clenching his fist. "I don't know what's going through your head or why you think you'd need to tell me that you'll beat me."

Shoto turned back for a moment, frowning again.

"Yeah, of course, you're better than me. In fact, you probably have way more potential than anybody in the hero course," Izuku managed. "That's why you got in so easily—"

"Midoriya," Eijiro said, laughing. "Maybe you're being a little hard on yourself—and us, you know?"

"No, he's right you guys, all the other courses; they're coming for us with everything they've got," Izuku said, lifting his head. "We're all going to have to fight hard to stand out—and I'll be aiming for the top, too."

"Fine," Shoto said.

I could almost hear Katsuki's teeth grinding together from two tables away.

#